


A Vacation

by stickyrice



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, mythea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4023013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickyrice/pseuds/stickyrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft works too hard and needs a vacation, and it is her job to see that he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Vacation

Rapping lightly on the door 3 times, she strode into his office, a collection of file folders clutched tightly to her chest, and a delicate, china tea cup and saucer balanced precariously in the other hand as she pushed the door open with a bump of her hip.  
  
Upon hearing the familiar rap of her knuckles at his door, really the only hands that ever really come in contact with his door, he had laid down his pen and quickly scrubbed at his tired eyes; trying to refocus his attentions on her.  
  
Looking up at her from his desk, he crooked his head to the side in silent question; his eyes and body language the only "talking" that he needed to do for her to be able to understand him.  
  
Setting the tea cup and saucer on the edge of his desk, just off to his right handed side, she finally turned her eyes to him, letting them sweep over his face,  taking in the deeply etched lines around his forehead and around his eyes, and the dark circles that made his usually clear, bright eyes, appear dull and sunken.  
  
As she took in his tired, haggard appearance, her lips pursed and her brows drew down into a frown. She was even about to let slip a hum of disapproval when he cleared his throat, and startled her out of her perusal of his person.  
  
Placing her hand on her hip, she gave him a stern look; refusing to back down.  
  
He blinked up at her a few times, taking in the set of her jaw, her rigid body language and the frown marring her features.  
  
He let out a long suffering sigh, raised one elegant eyebrow and countered her silent question with one of his own, "yes?"  
  
She continued to gaze at him, letting the silence draw on between them, caused him to squirm ever so slightly in his chair before answering him, "you look horrible, you need a vacation" she told him bluntly.  
  
"There is too much work to be done, and besides, when was the last time you have known me to take a vacation. I am fine Anthea" he said, his weary tone of voice undermining his words.  
  
"Exactly my point, you need a break... go on vacation, whatever, you just need a break. As someone who knows you better than you probably know yourself, I am telling you, you need to take a break" she implored kindly; concern for him shining brightly in her eyes.  
  
"I know and thank you for your concern, but I’m fine"  
  
"but ..."  
  
"I said I’m fine thank you, and if that is all ..." he said, his voice trailing off, essentially ending the conversation.  
  
With a slight huff of annoyance, she turned on her heel and left his office; one way or another he will take that vacation, she thought to herself with conviction.  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
  
A week later

They were sitting in a long and tedious meeting between the current government in power and the opposition; it was their role to play mediator between the two opposing sides. Such was life when playing the role of really the only neutral party in the government, on the account that really no matter what the parties wanted it usually came out to what he wanted/instilled the ideas in them.

Here they sat 5 hours into the meeting; both parties unable to come to a compromise, no matter that he told them their only viable options 20 minutes into the meeting.

From under long lashes, she cast appraising looks of his person and took in every twitch and tight line of him. His jaw was firmly clenched; his hands flexed ever so slightly and then relaxed repeatedly as if he wanted to fiddle with the pen in front of him. Although a pale man, his pallor was drawn and ashen; and he would blink slowly, as if trying to bring himself back to the present as his mind wandered off, his focus slipping, but only so much as only she would notice.

Internally sighing at his stubborn refusal and disregard for himself, she scribbled a quick note on the pad of paper before her, as if avidly taking down notes from the meeting, and then leaning over slightly to him, as if to ask for clarification on a point.

He saw her writing on the pad of paper and his brow frowned slightly; he knew that she knew that this meeting was pointless and nothing of importance was going to be gained from this meeting, so he wondered at what she could possibly be scribbling down.

He glanced down at her notes as he saw her subtly push it towards him, and couldn’t help but internally (although she understood him enough to know that he was doing it) roll his eyes at her.

_You need a vacation_ , was scrawled in the short hand that they had perfected, that only the other could read, though their many years of working together.

He caught her eyes, before giving a brief but intentional glance around the room at the arguing political parties, as if to say _Yeah right, and leave the fate of the country in the hands of these idiots, I think not!_

_But you are pale and tired, and if I didn’t know any better I would call you Casper_ , she wrote back.

He picked up the pen in front of himself and jotted down a quick counter note to her own; _we live in England; the land of rain and overcast weather, of course I’d be pale._

_There is pale and then there is you; you need a vacation!_

He was about to retort with another written message, when he vaguely noticed that the conversation around them had stopped. He glanced up to see the concerned and very much worried and anxious eyes of all of the cabinet members, for they knew if they did not have the undivided attention of Mr. Holmes; that spelt big trouble for them.

He cleared his throat and addressed them, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is apparent that nothing of importance will be accomplished at this meeting, I suggest that we adjourn and come back when there are concrete ideas that can be worked with”

With that he got up out of his seat and left, Anthea trailing in his wake. As they walked further down the corridor to an area where there were no eyes and ears, she opened her mouth to reiterate his need for a vacation, however he held up a hand silencing the words on the tip of her tongue.

“I know you mean well my dear, but again, I am fine, and now is not a good times, especially with the election that we just had, now if you’d please ...” he said trailing off, essentially ending the conversation.

“Fine _Sir_ ” she said primly, hoping that even though she wasn’t getting anywhere with her suggestion of a vacation, that she was at least wearing him down enough for him to at least listen to her suggestion.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Another month later

They had given up the pretence of trying to work from the office, unless strictly necessary; and that was how she found herself taking up residence in his home.

Upon entering the room, she saw his hunched over form just barely illuminated by the glow of the monitors; the only sounds in the room was the beep of the heart rate monitor and the rise and fall of the respirator as it manually breathed for the young man hooked up to a number of IV’s and looking much too pale.

Mycroft was sat (once again) at his brother’s bedside, not that Sherlock would know. It was another overdose, this one worse than the last. He sat vigil at his brother’s bedside; his back hunched over, elbows resting on his knees; one of his hands clutching the lifeless hand of that of the man (child) strung up in the bed.

There are very few things that could take Mycroft Holmes away from his work, however his younger brother, Sherlock was one in the limited few; he has been there day and night for the past 3 days, running the country from his brother’s bedside, while simultaneously praying for any sign of life from the young man.

She moves further into the room, the only sign that he has noticed her presence was the slight stiffening of his back; however he did not move to straighten his posture or fix his dishevelled appearance. 

Standing beside him, she slightly towered over him. She hesitated briefly, warring with herself whether he would welcome her intrusion or if it would just add even more to his burden. She couldn’t help herself, against her better judgement; she laid her hand on his shoulder gently, hesitantly.

At the touch of her hand across his shoulder, he felt the warmth seep into his skin, even through the many layers of cloths. The warmth spread through his body and only served to make him crumple further into himself.

They stood that way for some times; him drawing comfort from her, and her trying to provide him with her own kind of silent strength.

After a long moment of a shared give and take of something only the other could give, he let a long, drawn out sigh as he watched the artificial rise and fall of his brother’s chest as the machines breathed for him.

“Please Anthea, not now,” He didn’t even have it in him to rebut or argue with her, and that was when she knew that she to take matters into her own hands

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Two months later

Flopping onto his back, his breath is heaving as he simultaneously gasps for breath and sputters and coughs up water. His suite is soaked through and there is sand clinging to his every visible plane and, really who was he kidding, he could feel sand in places that he wouldn’t quite like to examine just yet.

As his breath started to return to normal, his stretched his arm out to the side, blindly groping and coming into contact with the damp, cool skin of her arm. Running his fingers down her arm, he felt goose bumps rise up on her flesh; his fingers ghosted over her pulse at her wrist and he made a mental note that her it jumped and beat wildly, be it from all the ... excitement or from something or someone else, it would be something to think on later.

His fingers moved further down to tangle with hers, interlacing their fingers together. They stayed that way for some time just basking in hot, bright glow of the sun; the crash of the waves on the beach and the crackle of the burning boat in the distance, the only sounds on the small deserted beach.  

Lazily he turned his head towards her, his eyes still closed to the bright glare of the sun.

“You did that on purpose didn’t you” he said; there was no anger or accusation in his voice, just a simple quiet statement of truth.

She gave a hum of acknowledgment of his statement, “It was an accident” she said with a dismissive air and her own head turned to face his; her lips biting back the smile that threatened to spread across her lips.

His eyes popped open and he propped himself up on his elbow to stare down at her, and looked at her in disbelief. She peeked open her eyes at him, a mischievous glint in them, and gave him a (not so) innocent shrug of her shoulders.

She turned her head again to once again bask in the warm sunlight, closing her eyes, she said “Well there is nothing we can do about it now but wait, so you might as well just enjoy it”

His brows drew down into a frown as his eyes continued to run over her face, taking in her relaxed features. With a roll of his eyes, he let out a resigned huff and collapsed back down on to the soft sand beside her.

As she heard the thump of his body hit the sand, a wide grin broke out across her lips.

Without even opening his eyes, he gave a light squeeze to her hand that was still entwined with his, “Do shut up my dear” he said lightly, his lips quirking up into a small smile.  

 

 


End file.
